


Writing is Healing for the Soul

by ughdotcom



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Agender Character, Agender!Logan, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Don't Have to Know Canon, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid!Patton, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary!Virgil, Of DEH at least, Writing, might continue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21193385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ughdotcom/pseuds/ughdotcom
Summary: Dear ________,We are pleased to announce that you are one of the twenty accepted as a finalist for our short story writing competition for your short story ______, chosen from the prompt __________. You have now earned a partial scholarship to our school.To be in the competition you must recite your story onstage and give a brief speech on what it’s about.If you happen to be one of the four who wins this competition you will receive a full scholarship and a prize of 500 U.S. dollars. Good luck, ________.Enclosed is a copy of your short story and information on the final’s location and date.Alana BeckPresident of Alan Turing college.





	Writing is Healing for the Soul

> Dear Virgil Sanders,
> 
> We are pleased to announce that you are one of the twenty accepted as a finalist for our short story writing competition for your short story _ Monsters _ , chosen from the prompt **monsters haunt adults**. You have now earned a partial scholarship to our school.
> 
> To be in the competition you must recite your story onstage and give a brief speech on what it’s about.
> 
> If you happen to be one of the four who wins this competition you will receive a full scholarship and a prize of 500 U.S. dollars. Good luck, Mx. Sanders.
> 
> Enclosed is a copy of your short story and information on the final’s location and date.
> 
> Alana Beck
> 
> President of Alan Turing college.

Stapled to the letter was their story.

_ When we’re little we cry. We cry because of the monsters in the closet, their dry hands reaching out to grab us. We swear we can feel their claws on our arms, their hot breath on our faces, as we screw our eyes shut and scream. Now that we’re old we know better. We know that the monsters aren’t inside the closet, but outside it. _

_ Us? We hide in the closet. We can hear their voices drifting in, for closets are not soundproof, indeed, they seem to be the opposite, because their voices swirl around us and we can hear every word, every whisper. _

_ They laugh at the others who are brave enough to come out of the closet. They threaten them, and sometimes we can hear the screams, when one is brave enough to lash out. We hear this, and we curl into our corner, because we don’t want to be the ones taunted, jeered at, the ones that are hurt. _

_ Sometimes the monsters speak to us as if we are out there, having never been in the closet in the first place. They laugh at the brave ones, saying _ ** _how disgusting_ ** _ with their slimy tongues. They speak to us as if we have never seen the inside of the closet. _

_ Sometimes they encourage us to come out, and sometimes we believe them. Their words slide smoothly like silver, and we believe them, because how can we not? They jeer at the open ones, but they are _ ** _our_ ** _ monsters, so how could they hate us? _

_ Some convince us that we hide in the closet because we are the real monster, the true abomination. And in the dark, sometimes when we look at our hands, we imagine scales. _

_ Some of the people out there yell at the monsters and we can hear them. _ ** _You monster!_ ** _ They call out, and we are happy to see the monsters called out. _ ** _I am who I am, and I’m happy! I’m happy to be out of my disgusting closet!_ ** _ These are the people we trust, even if we’ve only ever known the monsters. _

_ One day, we promise ourselves, one day I’ll come out of this small dark closet. One day we will leave, and we won’t be forced back in by the monsters. But one day does not mean today, and so we hide, not in an act of cowardice, but in an act of preservation. _

Virgil grinned and hugged their story to their chest. They were one of the twenty finalists! They would go to D.C. and read their story and they would explain their story and they might, they just might, get a scholarship to Alan Turing University.

> Dear Roman Garcia,
> 
> We are pleased to announce that you are one of the twenty accepted as a finalist for our short story writing competition for your short story _ The Thief and the Prince, _ chosen from the prompt **They steal their heart… literally**. You have now earned a partial scholarship to our school.
> 
> To be in the competition you must recite your story onstage and give a brief speech on what it’s about.
> 
> If you happen to be one of the four who wins this competition you will receive a full scholarship and a prize of 500 U.S. dollars. Good luck, Mr. Garcia.
> 
> Enclosed is a copy of your short story and information on the final’s location and date.
> 
> Alana Beck
> 
> President of Alan Turing college.

_ The thief climbed the castle walls. It was a daring mission, and one they weren’t quite sure why they were given. It had come to them by way of a letter, signed with a blurred scrawl, as if the sender had run water over the signature and no other part of the letter. They were to steal the Prince. _

_ The thief, named Angel, was not quite sure why they were to steal a prince, let alone the prince of all the land, Prince Romulus, but they weren’t going to question it, not with the amount they were getting paid. 10000 pounds. More money than Angel had seen in their life. Enough that they would never have to steal again. _

_ As they climbed, Angel glanced in the windows until he saw him. The prince. Romulus. They kicked open the window, and Romulus turned, but not in shock. Instead, the prince grinned. “Finally” he said. “Finally”. _

_ Angel frowned, confused. “Finally?” _

_ “Oh could you not read the signature?” they were about to object that they couldn’t, because it was so blurred, but Romulus laughed before they could speak. “Of course you couldn’t, thief. I blurred it with water so well you’d have to be a magician to read it.” _

_ “Why did you want to be kidnapped, your highness?” _

_ “Not anymore, now that I’m getting out of here. And they’re making me marry a princess. Can you imagine? Me? And a lady?” _

_ “Isn’t that what you have to do for the kingdom to continue.” _

_ Romulus waved his hand. “I have a brother. He can marry a princess and take over the throne. I want to be free!” _

_ “Very well. And the money?” _

_ “Yes, here.” the prince tossed a side bag at Angel. “What is your name, savior?” _

_ “You asked me to do this, I’m no savior. I’m doing this for money. And it’s Angel.” _

_ “Angel?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “Well, Angel, you are truly my savior angel, no matter if you are doing this for money. And you are beautiful.” Romulus swept up Angel’s hand in his and pressed a kiss onto it. _

_ “I don’t think so.” Angel said, but a faint blush covered their cheeks. “But I’m going to help you leave. And Romulus?” _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “Not even a magician could read that signature. I should know. I am one.” _

_ Romulus laughed as Angel helped him out the window. If he could read the future he would be very excited to know that he and Angel would have several adventures, and maybe even a kiss, awaiting in the future. _

Roman spun around in glee. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to Alan Turing University, but winning this competition? His dream. Getting this far was a miracle.

> Dear Logan Kim,
> 
> We are pleased to announce that you are one of the twenty accepted as a finalist for our short story writing competition for your short story _ Listening to Legends _ , chosen from the prompt **They steal their heart… literally**. You have now earned a partial scholarship to our school.
> 
> To be in the competition you must recite your story onstage and give a brief speech on what it’s about.
> 
> If you happen to be one of the four who wins this competition you will receive a full scholarship and a prize of 500 U.S. dollars. Good luck, Mx. Kim.
> 
> Enclosed is a copy of your short story and information on the final’s location and date.
> 
> Alana Beck
> 
> President of Alan Turing college.

_ You had heard the legends. You had heard them, and you had ignored them. You heard the whispers of the monsters, the Heart-Eater, appearing to you as your dream girl, and eating your heart wedding day, but you had never listened. And listening makes all the difference. Listening would mean you weren’t cowering behind the door. Listening could have saved your life. _

_ Silvia had appeared to you a year and a half ago, a tourist in your small ocean town. You yourself were new, but you offered to show her around. And you, and assumedly her, had fallen in love instantly. _

_ She had been the perfect girl, every feature and personality trait what you wanted in a lover. The villagers they whispered, spoke of the Heart-Eater, but you ignored them. You realize now that that was a mistake. _

_ You can hear her footsteps, her singing voice. “Darling,” her voice says, a sing song tone filling the house, seeming to come from all of the corners. “Come out, come out wherever you are.” You don’t respond. “ _ ** _Darling,_ ** _ ” Her voice deepens and it is no longer the voice of the woman you knew. “ _ ** _Where are you? I’ll find you. I will find you._ ** _ ” _

_ You regret playing hide and seek, but you had the same childlike fancy she seemed to have. She only has one place to look now, and it’s where you are. Your hands find your chest of their own accord and you hold them over the cavity where your heart is. You can feel it beat, a steady rhythm, but it’s pounding ever so quickly. You feel like she can hear it from wherever she is. Maybe she can. You can’t remember the legends. All you can remember is the whispers of Heart-Eater. They ring in your ears, more than her haunting double voice did. _

** _Boom_ ** _ . Your heart pounds. _ ** _Pat_ ** _ . Her foot hits the ground. “ _ ** _Darling?_ ** _ ” she calls. _

** _Boom. Pat. Darling. Boom. Pat. Darling._ ** _ It’s a steady rhythm, and you wonder if you will die to it. It would be fitting, you, the mathematician, dying to that rhythm. _

_ The footsteps stop and light fills your eyes. You squeeze them shut. “ _ ** _Darling,_ ** _ ” She says, “ _ ** _There you are. We just got married? What are you doing? You have to give me your heart._ ** _ ” A sharp stinging pain fills your chest. You can still feel your heart as she bites into it. The pain is worse than death, the feeling of teeth on your heat, like knives, but worse at it becomes mush and burns with acid. “ _ ** _You want to die, Darling?_ ** _ ” Oh. She now knows your emotions, apparently. _

_ “Yes.” You choke out, not in the mood, or the sanity, to lie. _

_ “ _ ** _Don’t worry darling. You will soon enough_ ** _ .” You close your eyes and wait for the end. _

Logan grinned, the smallest showing of emotion. Although he was going to Alan Turing University for Sciences, he was determined to win this scholarship, and if his parents learned not to disrespect his less _ useful _ fancies, like writing from it, that was a bonus.

> Dear Patton Watson,
> 
> We are pleased to announce that you are one of the twenty accepted as a finalist for our short story writing competition for your short story _Bella_, chosen from the prompt **All dogs go to heaven… at least that’s what they say**. You have now earned a partial scholarship to our school.
> 
> To be in the competition you must recite your story onstage and give a brief speech on what it’s about.
> 
> If you happen to be one of the four who wins this competition you will receive a full scholarship and a prize of 500 U.S. dollars. Good luck, Mx. Watson.
> 
> Enclosed is a copy of your short story and information on the final’s location and date.
> 
> Alana Beck
> 
> President of Alan Turing college.

_ They told them that all dogs go to heaven. I heard her, the vet lady, assuring my kids, Judy and Ralph, that I would go to heaven. I didn’t know what was happening. All I saw was Ralph and Judy crying, as their mom, _ ** _my mom_ ** _ , Amita, tried to hold her tears back. My other mom, Sadie, was crying openly, squeezing Judy close. I wanted to tell them that I wasn’t going anywhere when the vet lady sank the needle in. _

_ I’m a puppy again now. My paws are brown, not golden. I have a new mother, new siblings. And a leering face is against the glass. I don't know him and he is staring at me. “That one,” he says, and he points at me. The lady, not the vet one, but a different one, lifts me up and hand me to him. _

_ He takes me home. “You’re going to a very special lady tomorrow,” he says, and he locks me in a cage that held a rabbit once. _

_ I try to sleep, but that cage is hard, there is not soft, only shred paper. I try to sleep, but I can’t. I wonder who his special lady is. _

_ The next day he shoves me into a small cage and brings me into his word and I see her. Sadie. The man walks over to her, hiding me behind his back. “Sadie.” he says. _

_ She turns, an exasperated look on her face. “Yes, Hal?” she sighs. _

_ “I brought you a present. You were talking about how your dog Lassie died a few years back, and I thought I’d…” he brings me out and Sadie stares at me. _

_ “Hal…” _

_ “I thought we could discuss him over dinner.” _

_ “Hal.” She says, more forcefully this time. “I’m married.” I wonder how he doesn’t know this. She talks about Amita all the time. _

_ “Since when?” _

_ “Since I started working here.” she takes me out of his hand, and I’m thankful. He seemed like he’s going to swing me around if she didn’t. _

_ “You’ve never mentioned a husband.” _

_ “I’ve mentioned my _ ** _wife_ ** _ , Amita, several times, Hal.” She walks off. I’m thankful. _

_ “Hey.” She lifts me up toward her face. “What’s your name? No name? I’ll see what Bella and Judy want to name you.” I wonder who Bella is. _

_ She drives me home and as she enters the doorway two kids approach. One is obviously Judy, the same long curly brown hair and piercing green eyes. The other… who is the other? I don’t know her. She smells like Ralph, but she’s a girl. Then she speaks and she has the same voice as Ralph. She is Ralph! But she’s Bella now. _

_ “Can we name him Coco?” Bella asks. _

_ “Course, Belle.” Sadie says, glancing at Bella to guarantee the name is ok. Bella smiles and nods. _

_ I am home. _

Patton grinned. She was going to D.C.! And the letter had said Mx.! Acknowledging her genderfluidity!

* * *

Virgil scratched at their palm as they waited to go onstage and read their story.

“Virgil Sanders!” the announcer Zoe Murphy, or, how she had so casually referred to herself, “the narrator, and also Alana Beck’s girlfriend” called.

They stepped on stage and started to read their story. “When we’re little we cry. We cry because of the monsters in the closet, their dry hands reaching out to grab us-”

After they finished they started to describe their piece. They hoped no one in the audience was one of the monsters.

“In my short story _ Monsters _ I’m speaking about homophobia. If you’ve ever heard the slang ‘in the closet’ for gay people, I drew off that. The fear of homophobia for queer people is something that often keeps them in hiding.”

After they finished explaining their story they curtsied and walked off the stage.

Next up was a boy humming, Roman Prince, according to Zoe. His story was a sweet queer illegal romance. It was beautiful.

“I wrote this based on my own experiences in a homophobic family. Like Romulus I wanted to run away. I wanted a savior like Angel. I never got one until I started writing. And then I felt saved.” He bowed.

After Roman was Logan Kim. They read a horror story.

“I wrote this based on an idea I had of a monster, based on the prompt. It has no big backstory. Maybe I like thinking of perfect love as a trap, because there’s no such thing.” they bowed.

After Logan was Patton Watson. He read a story about a dog being resurrected.

“My inspiration was a bit _ A Dog’s Purpose _, and a bit of thinking about acceptance. Dog’s don't gender. Sure, they might be a bit confused by a kid named Ralph now being Bella, but why would they care? They wouldn’t.” she curtsied.

* * *

“After careful consideration” Alana Beck said, speaking into the mic, “Our four winners are:” she unfolded the paper “Virgil Sanders, Logan Kim, Roman Prince, and Patton Watson.”

Virgil grinned. Roman near screamed in joy. Logan let a smile drift onto his face. Patton jumped up and down and clapped their hands.

The four walked on stage to bow.

Much like Romulus and Angel, the four didn’t know how many adventures they were to have… and what romances were to come.


End file.
